


Angel on Ice

by freeshipping



Series: Snow Angels AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Cuddling, Cute, Dancing, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Olympics, Romance, Skating, dean is a romantic, law student!sam, mechanic!Dean, skater au, skater!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freeshipping/pseuds/freeshipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never really enjoyed sports. Or skating, for that matter. That is, until he spots pro skater Castiel Novak in the Winter Olympics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel on Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this tumblr post: http://snugglescas.com/post/76133966297/au-castiel-novak-is-an-olympic-figure-skater

Sports had never been a common theme in the life of the Winchesters. Sam was too nerdy, constantly stuck with his nose in a book. That is, when he wasn’t studying at Stanford Law. Dean was a mechanic, and not exactly the type to watch a bunch of guys in spandex chase after an inflated ball.

Dean knew what the Olympics were, of course, but he had never bothered to tune in. At least, not until this year. This year, the American team’s best figure skater lived only a few towns over from Lawrence, Kansas. Dean had never met him before, but he felt obligated to tune in to the competition on principle alone. After all, there weren’t exactly very many celebrities from Kansas.

So it was state pride that caused him to switch on the TV that night. That’s all it was, honest.

He found himself yawning as we watched the skaters twirling around the rink. The costumes were too pretty for his taste, and the techniques seemed so repetitive to him. Suddenly, he perked up. One of the skaters on the sideline had caught his attention, although he couldn’t exactly pin down why.

He had dark, tousled hair and eyes so bright they could burn a hole in the ice. He was wearing a blue tie and a simple tan jacket and tight, _tight_ pants. He was watching the other skaters curiously, with his head tilted and only his eyes moving as he followed their actions.

Screw state pride, Dean wanted to see this man skate.

Just then, Sam walked through the door, stomping and cursing as the living room was hit with a blast of cold air. He stopped abruptly as he noticed Dean’s eyes glued to the screen.

“Dean?” he asked with a slight laugh, “Um.. are you watching…. figure skating?”

Dean jumped and leaned back with a scowl. “It’s the Olympics, Sammy! Everyone watches the Olympics!”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I don’t recall you watching them ever before…”

“Well, you were away last year--”

“The Olympics happen every two years, Dean.”

Dean took a silent swig of his beer, electing to ignore Sam in favor of the gorgeous blue-eyed man who had just stepped onto the ice. He seemed suave, but slightly camera-shy. One of his teammates patted him on the shoulder as he stepped onto the ice and he slipped slightly, managing to catch himself right before he fell. He kept his eyes trained on the ice, blushing furiously.

All that bumbling awkwardness disappeared, however, when he began to move. Dean didn’t think he had ever seen something so majestic. Every movement he made was smooth and fluid, one move leading into the next without any breaks or interruptions. And oh, could the man’s hips _move_. The tight fabric of his brown pants clung tightly to his ass, riding low on his hips. Dean caught a glimpse of midriff at one point and nearly dropped his beer.

Dean found himself tense and nervous as he watched the skater, his eyes trained on the man’s every move. He held his breath in suspense during every jump, every turn, and every tricky move, but the man landed perfectly every time.

He was in a dead sweat by the time the man’s routine was finished, and it was only then that Dean realized Sam was behind him, leaning over the back of the couch. “Dean? Hello, are you okay?”

“What?” Dean took a sip of his beer, feeling his face grow hot. “I.. yeah, of course.”

“Really? You seem a little… tense.”

Dean immediately relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah, no, I was just really absorbed in the skating. Kind of nervous for the guy, you know? All those eyes on him like that?”

Sam squinted at him. “Sure, Dean. On a totally unrelated note, I think it’s high time you went out on a date.”

“What are you talking about? I went out with that one girl like three days ago.”

“No, Dean, you picked her up in a bar and slept with her. Do you even remember her name?”

“.....what’s your point?”

“You need to find a _connection_ , Dean. You’re lonely, and watching hot guys skate around in tights isn’t going to change that.” Sam walked away before Dean could protest, leaving Dean feeling embarrassed and strangely empty.

His eyes wandered back to the screen, where the camera was trained on the gorgeous man with the dark hair. He looked concerned, leaning against a wall and closing his eyes. Dean could see how anxious he was and suddenly wished very much to be standing right next to the man, hugging him tightly and whispering into his hair that it was okay, he did great, he was going to do fine.

He turned off the television helplessly, realizing how correct Sammy had been. He could no longer dwell on silly fantasies.

~ * ~

The next morning, Dean was up early. He had been up all night tossing and turning, trying not to admit to himself how right Sam was. He _did_ need someone, and he _was_ very lonely.Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how to fix that. He had never been good at relationships, and he didn’t even have anyone that he could see himself being involved with.

“Hey Dean,” Sam greeted him, yawning as he entered the kitchen.

Dean barely glanced up from his coffee. “Morning.”

“Did you see who won the skating competition last night?”

Dean shrugged. “No, I stopped watching.”

Sam grinned. “Your friend in the tights there got second place. Castiel Novak, I think his name was.”

Dean blinked, startled. “Isn’t that the same guy who lives a couple towns over?” Son of a bitch.

“I guess.” Sam sat down with a bowl of cereal, tucking his messy bed hair behind his ears. “Yeah, I think so.”

That was the last mention of Castiel Novak that Dean would hear for three weeks.

~ * ~

“I can’t believe you convinced me to come with you, Jo.” Dean was freezing, wrapped in a coat, hat and scarf, with his hands tucked into his pockets. He blew out a cloud of warm air angrily.

Jo laughed at his expression. “It’s good for you, Dean,” she said, “Besides, I support your business, so you have to support mine.” Jo and her mother were caterers, and this week they were doing an outdoor event a couple hours away from Lawrence. Dean’s friend had coaxed him into keeping her company, although she had neglected to mention that the party was outside. “Of course it’s outside,” she replied when he had protested, “It’s a skating party.”

Dean had never put on ice skates before in his life, and he had no plans on starting now. He glared broodingly at the figures twirling around the skating rink in front of him. There was something romantic about the art, the way the couples held hands and moved with other, or how the singles moved so fluidly and artfully across the frozen surface. Deep down, Dean supposed he was a bit jealous.

Suddenly, Jo gripped his arm tightly and gave an inhuman squeal. “Holy shit, that’s him!”

“Who?”

“Castiel Novak! You know, the one this whole party is for.” Jo threw him a perplexed look. “Weren’t you listening to my briefing on the way over?”

Dean snorted, scanning the crowd until he found him. The man looked even more gorgeous in person than on the screen. He was wearing the same tan jacket he had been wearing in the rink, but he had replaced the tie with a striped blue scarf and his hair was just barely poking out from underneath an adorable red hat.

Dean felt suddenly breathless. “Excuse me,” he muttered to Jo, and he wandered across the lawn towards Castiel Novak.

Novak was by himself, looking strangely out of place in the crowd of happy, celebrating party-goers, despite the fact that the party was being thrown for him. He didn’t look sad, exactly, just… lonely.

Dean took a deep breath and tapped on Novak’s shoulder. “Mr…. Mr. Novak?” he squeaked, then cleared his throat nervously as Novak’s eyes turned toward him. He could practically feel their blueness boring holes in his skull.

“Yes?” Novak’s voice was surprisingly deep and raspy, and it only succeeded in making Dean more breathless.

“Um, I just wanted to say that I saw your routine in the Olympics and uh, it was really good. I mean, I thought so. I’m not really a big figure skating fan but, uh, that was pretty cool. And congratulations, by the way, on winning.” He looked shyly at his shoes. He had never been this nervous around people before, but it was hard to keep his cool around someone like Castiel Novak, especially with those bright eyes scrutinizing his every move.

“I didn’t win,” Novak replied simply, “I got second.”

Dean laughed nervously. “Yeah but, second in the entire _world_. That’s a pretty big accomplishment.”

Novak was unsmiling, watching the skaters on the rink. “I suppose.”

“Hey.” Dean frowned, nudging the dejected skater with his shoulder. “You were damn good out there. So what if you didn’t get first? Most people never even get to compete in something like that.” Novak was silent. “For God’s sake, Mr. Novak, this whole party is for you! Why don’t you lighten up a bit?” It came out a little harsher than he had intended it to, and Dean drew in a sharp breath almost as soon as he said it. “I’m sorry, I--”

“No,” Novak replied, “You are correct. And please, call me Castiel.” He was still watching the skaters.

“I’m Dean.”

Castiel’s eyes flicked over to Dean, then back out to the rink. “Thank you, Dean. I think I needed that.”

“So… is there a particular reason you’re standing here instead of socializing?” Dean asked curiously, trying to make conversation.

Castiel looked at Dean full on now, tilting his head to the side. “But I am socializing. I’m speaking with you, Dean.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

Castiel looked down at the snow-frosted ground. “I know. I guess I’m a bit of a… wallflower. What about you?”

“Oh, I just came with a friend. Besides, Cas, I’m speaking with you.” Dean nudged Castiel playfully with his arm.

Castiel squinted at him. “You called me Cas.”

Dean immediately backtracked, realizing his mistake. “Sorry, I like nicknames--”

“It is okay,” Cas interrupted, “I like it. I think… I’d like you to continue calling me that.”

Dean smiled at him, feeling his cheeks flushing, and Cas gave him a small smile in return. Dean felt their eyes connect and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Tell me, Dean,” Cas said finally, breaking the silence, “Do you skate?”

Dean laughed. “I, uh, no. I don’t. Do you?”

Cas frowned at him. “Yes, it is my job.”

“Shit.” Dean put his face in his hands. “Fuck. Sorry, that was automatic. I know. Yeah, obviously. Sorry.”

It was Castiel’s turn to laugh. He reached out and took Dean’s hands away from his face. “It is okay, Dean. Why don’t I show you a few things?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, hell no. If I get out there, I’ll just slip and break something. No, no way.”

“I will be there to support you,” Cas insisted, grabbing Dean’s shoulders and steering him over to a rack of skates sitting by the rink. Dean reluctantly mumbled his agreement, liking the way Cas’s hands felt strong and sturdy on his shoulders. He couldn’t really refuse the beautiful man if he tried.

He nearly fell with his first step onto the ice, but Cas grabbed his hands and helped him stay upright. Neither of them were wearing gloves, and Dean could feel how soft Cas’s hands were in comparison to his own rough, calloused skin.

Cas skated backwards with ease, leading Dean slowly around the edge of the rink. “Fuck fuck fuck,” Dean muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes glued the ice under his skates, “I’m gonna fall. This isn’t gonna end well.”

“Dean,” Cas told him, “Keep your eyes on me.” Dean lifted his gaze to meet Castiel’s, feeling the world slip away as he stared into those blue, blue eyes. Castiel smiled genuinely for the first time, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat.

That was when Dean’s feet went out from under him. He fell hard on the slippery surface, taking Cas down with him. The smaller man landed on top of Dean. Rather than being annoyed, he started laughing.

“Ugh, I’m sorry Cas.” Dean propped himself up on his elbows and stared down at Cas, who was clinging to his chest and laughing silently, his head tucked against Dean’s shoulder. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I just… I probably should have expected that. You really should have kept your eyes on your feet.”

“But you told me…!”

“I know,” Cas said softly, grinning up at Dean, “I just wanted an excuse to look at you.”

Dean laughed too, then, smiling happily at the dark-haired skater. His hat had fallen off on the ice and his hair was curly and tousled. Cas finally lifted himself up and brushed off his pants.

“You missed a spot,” Dean pointed out, still seated helplessly on the ice. Castiel’s ass was still covered in powdery ice shavings. “Here, I’ll get it for you.” He reached out and brushed it off, causing Cas to squeal and jump forward.

“Dean!” he exclaimed reprimandingly, but he was still smiling, as much as he tried to hide it. He helped Dean to his feet and they stood breathlessly for a second, only inches apart. Cas swallowed visibly, then gathered his confidence and took one of Dean’s hands in his own, placing his own hand lightly on Dean’s shoulder. “This is where you put your hand on my waist, Dean,” he purred.

Dean gladly obliged, unable to hide the light smile tugging at the corner of his lips. They slowly skated together, dancing on ice. Dean couldn’t remember ever feeling this synchronized with another human being, and he marveled at the way Cas could lead him around the rink with slight gestures and subtle nudges. He was incapable of looking away from the man’s face, so he stopped trying and relaxed into the skater’s strong grip.

They danced until long after dark, when most of the other party-goers had retreated into the warm house nearby. Loud music blasted from within, the heavy bass booming out across the lawn. Dean and Cas were the last skaters remaining, but Dean didn’t think he ever wanted their dance to end.

Cas seemed to feel the same way. Once they were alone, he took his hand out of Dean’s and placed it on his shoulder, letting Dean wrap both of his arms around his waist. The skater leaned into the mechanic’s chest, sighing and closing his eyes. Dean stopped skating, pressing his mouth into Cas’s hair and breathing in the warm, musky scent.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, not opening his eyes, “Why did you stop?”

Dean brought one hand up and brushed Castiel’s hair back. “You seem tired,” he replied, “Maybe we should go inside.”

“No,” Cas murmured, although he was practically asleep against Dean’s chest. “Want to stay out here, with you. Alone. Don’t like the other people.”

Dean planted a kiss on Cas’s forehead. “Whatever you want, Cas,” he whispered.

Cas lifted his head then, studying Dean’s face. “I think… I want you to kiss me, Dean.”

Dean was happy to fulfill the man’s request. He bent down and brushed their lips together softly. Cas’s lips were soft and tasted like honey. He had meant for it to be a light kiss, but Cas had other ideas. He dug his fingers into Dean’s coat and tugged him closer, deepening the kiss as he slid their lips together with a bit of tongue.

Dean pulled back, nuzzling the tip of Cas’s nose. “I really think we should head inside now, Cas,” he said quietly, “It’s like ten degrees out.”

Cas nodded, staring up at Dean with wide, innocent eyes. “Whatever you want, Dean,” he whispered. “I think my bedroom will be quiet. I mean, if… if you wanted to have some time alone.”

Dean scooped Cas into a warm hug, hiding his face against the smaller man’s neck. “I’d like that,” he breathed.

Dean knew, at that moment, that Sam had been right. He _had_ been lonely, and he _had_ needed someone to connect with.

But not anymore.

  
  



End file.
